


you are mine as i am yours

by aliaaaaaa



Series: webgottrash tumblr prompts [49]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 20:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6822001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliaaaaaa/pseuds/aliaaaaaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fae Magick is never wrong especially when it comes to marking your mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you are mine as i am yours

**Author's Note:**

> an anon requested for - web is in deep trouble. he's a wreck, but he still won't go to the one person who can really get him out, which I totally ruin this by writing it in the Fae AU verse.

Web doesn’t feel good.

He can feel the heavy fatigue settling in his bones, dragging his tired body sluggishly. He can’t seem to sleep more than a few hours before he wakes up so suddenly; feverish, and sweaty.

Roe says it’s because of the wound he gets from the bullet in his calf. The Krauts must have laced it with iron because normal bullet will not have any effect on his body at all. He tells Web to go back to the realm, to get proper care from his Elder, but Web has refused because he doesn’t want to leave the men.

Roe is furious with Web’s stubbornness in his silent seething, but Web can still feel the worry traveling up his sense, settling in his heart.

“I’ll be okay,” Web promises him, coughing slightly from the bitter taste that burns his tongue from the concoction that the good healer has produced.

Roe only shakes his head, his mouth sets in thin, stern lines; but Web knows he cares, he can feel it.

He goes about doing his duty as a soldier, carrying out patrols and volunteering to lead the platoon.

Winters is busy with his new duty, they don’t meet up much but he can feel his calming sense even from afar.

Luz is always near him, his bountiful high energy seeping into Web’s sense, making it a bit bearable to carry himself through the hazy fatigue that doesn’t seem to want to disappear, no matter how much concoctions Roe has prepared for him.

He is not worried because he still has his senses, he is not worried because he can still feel his fae brothers’ senses surrounding him.

But one day, he wakes up from his feverish induced dream, and he can’t feel them anymore.

*

“You should go back to the realm and let your Elder heal you. My magick doesn’t seem to be working and you’re getting weak,” Roe tries to reason with Web, but the man is too stubborn for his own good.

(The night that Web loses his fae ability, Roe wakes up feeling like something is missing. He sits up on his cot, only to see Luz already looking at him from across the room. Together, they creep quietly to where Web is sleeping, and Roe knows something is wrong when Winters is already there in the room; trying to calm an agitated Web.

“I can’t feel all of you anymore. I– I feel so alone. Everything seems so quiet and loud at the same time–.”

Web paces around the small room, looking lost and rumpled.

“You need to calm down, otherwise we won’t know the cause of it,” Winters tries to reason with Web, only to be ignored because Webster is now touching Luz’s forehead and asking if he can feel Web’s sense and Luz shakes his head slowly, looking forlorn.)

“I don’t want to go back, Roe. We don’t have enough men as it is, I can’t just leave you guys here,” Web replies heatedly, swatting Roe’s hand away from his forehead, sulking.

“It’s for your own good. You will heal faster if you’re in the realm.”

Web just shakes his head, his eyes wide in defiant and Roe looks at him closely, peering into his bright blue eyes and finds something like guilt flashing in them.

“You’re not telling me something,” Gene says, a bit accusingly because this is Webster who is prone to do something stupid behind their back.

“The cure is here,” Web whispers, looking into Gene’s dark eyes and begging him to understand.

“Your mate,” Gene whispers back, only in wonderment and he is smiling lightly, squeezing Web’s shoulder because finally, Web can be cured from his ailment.

“He’s not my mate. We haven’t… I haven’t told him yet,” Web says, shaking his head.

“So tell him! Web, he is your cure!” Roe argues, gripping Web’s shoulder firmer, his eyes never leaving Web’s.

“It’s not that easy!” Web hisses, looking around to check that they’re truly alone. “Roe, he– I– He feels different. There’s something dangerous in him; something that thirst for blood and violence. It’s the same feeling I get from Speirs,” Web explains, gnawing his lip in worry.

“Unseelie?” Roe asks, his hand still gripping Web’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, I can’t detect Unseelie, not like you. My magick is limited but him– I always feel him. I feel his stare always following me, I feel the pull from him and I always find myself wanting to be near him,” Web tells Roe, rubbing his face tiredly when he thinks about Liebgott and his brown eyes that always, _always_ follow him; how he always feels the pull since Toccoa. How he always manages to avoid the temptation to just give in.

“Is that why you are unwell and lost your fae ability? Because you’re denying yourself from marking him as your mate?” Roe asks, tilting his head to the side to peer at Web’s face.

“I don’t know, perhaps. I’m scared because Liebgott and I– We–”

“Fae Magick is never wrong especially when it comes to marking your mate. Look at Winters and Nixon; they’re totally different in every aspects, but Winters still marks him as his mate and they are happy,” Roe argues again, gently this time, because he knows Web needs the reassurance that him and Liebgott are meant to be; no matter if one is a Seelie while the other is an Unseelie.

“What if it doesn’t work out?” Web asks.

“Then you will be the first fae with the botch mate,” Roe replies as Web groans in frustration.

*

It’s strange to not feel any senses from anyone. He is so used of living with everyone’s senses seeping through him, that he forgets what it feels like to be just by himself.

He hates it, because it makes him feel lonely, it makes him feel like he is the only one left in the world.

Then like a switch that has been flicked, he feels a flicker of something seeping through him that he has to close his eyes from the intense sensation filling him up.

_Wanting, yearning, Webster, Webster, Webster._

“Web?”

He breathes out slowly, trying to compose himself before he turns to look at Liebgott.

But nothing can prepare him from the assault on his senses; he feels his neck prickling, a tell-tale sign that Lieb is near and he feels waves of wanting and yearning rolling off of Lieb that he almost doubles over on his bed; gasping hard because the senses are too much for him to bear.

And nothing can prepare him when Lieb fans his fingers around his neck, tilting his head up to look at him; his fingers feel like cool balm on his feverish skin, making him gasp in pleasure.

“Breathe, dammit. You have to breathe,” Lieb scolds, his brown eyes turning dark and Web knows he feels it too from the way his body is trembling, from the way his fingers caressing Web’s neck over and over, from the way he is stopping himself from leaning down to take Web.

“Lieb, I–” Web chokes out, and Lieb shushes him.

“Shh, you’re safe with me. Breathe,” Lieb whispers to him, stroking his neck gently with his thumb; his eyes never leaving Web’s.

Like this, with them being so close to each other, Web feels the pull intensify, he feels his senses settling in gently, calming down just by listening to Lieb’s voice.

“Okay?” Lieb asks, cool fingers still around Web’s neck.

“Yes,” Web whispers, not trusting himself to speak because he is afraid that he might say something that will put him in jeopardy.

Lieb pulls his fingers off of Web’s neck and Web unconsciously whines and Lieb smirks at that.

“And here I thought you don’t want me,” Lieb murmurs, and Web realizes that they are close, too close with Lieb sitting on his bed; just a few inches of gaps between them, and if Lieb leans down, he will just easily brush his lips against Web’s.

“You’re a fae,” Web says, his eyes tracing Lieb’s face, focusing on his red lips before he looks into Lieb’s brown eyes.

“I am,” Lieb answers, his fingers once again on Web, gently tracing his the soft skin of his wrist, making Web breathes harder.

“Unseelie,” Web says through gritted teeth because Lieb’s touch is making his shiver, making him yearning for more, making him want to crawl into Lieb’s lap and just surrender to him.

“Clever,” Lieb compliments, smiling when he sees Web shivers from his touch.

“I didn’t know. Roe was the one who guessed it,” Web huffs a breath when Lieb shifts to press his thighs closer to Web.

“But you feel it. You feel the chaos and danger in me. That’s why you stay away, even when you feel the pull between us. Even when you yearn for me,” Lieb whispers and with each word he leans closer and closer to Web; his eyes alternating between focusing on Web’s very blue eyes to Web’s very soft lips.

Web doesn’t deny it all, because it’s the truth because even when he feels the pull and his soul and body yearn to be close to Liebgott, his rational mind is saying no; feeding himself with a lie that a union between Seelie and Unseelie will not work.

But right now, with Lieb leaning closer to him, hovering his lips just inches from his own, Web feels the pull intensifying by ten-fold, feels the yearning seeping through his skin, traveling up his veins and dipping through his heart, touching his soul and filling it with contentment.

“Lieb.”

It’s the only warning that Web gives to Lieb before he closes the mere distance between them; slow sliding his lips over Lieb’s own red lips; tasting honey on his tongue as Lieb cups the back of his head to press his lips firmer, to kiss him a bit harder.

Everything comes alive.

Everything seems brighter even when his eyes are closed.

He can feel his senses coming back to him slowly, he can feel Roe’s healing touch, he can feel Winters’ calming sense, he can feel Luz’s giddy emotion seeping surrounding him again.

But right now, right now, all he wants to feel is Joseph Liebgott and his chaos mingling with Web's calm and his violence mingling with Web's peace; and Lieb can feel it too because he presses his lanky body on Web’s broad muscle; his arms around Web’s neck as he kisses down Web’s jaw and cheeks and eyes and temple, before claiming his lips again in heated kisses.

“I’m going to mark you as mine, Web. My one and only, for you to be my mate,” Lieb whispers into the soft flesh of Web’s neck, his hips rotating gently, and Web can feel that Lieb is hard, they both are and Web knows it’s time for him to be honest with himself.

“Mark me yours, Lieb. Make me your mate from now till the end of time,” Web moans when Lieb bites his shoulder hard, and he feels pleasure seeping into his senses when he wraps his legs around Lieb’s and moves his hips firmly to rub their cocks together.

Like this, with Web willingly surrendering himself to Lieb, the two of them whispering promises to be loyal to one another, to always love each other despite their differences; they become mates, they become one.

**Author's Note:**

> first posted on [webgottrash](http://webgottrash.tumblr.com/post/144204854657/web-is-in-deep-trouble-hes-a-wreck-but-he-still)


End file.
